


Moments

by bluestbluetoeverblue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Andromeda & Narcissa Black, F/M, Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, PTSD, Secret dating, ft. the Mauraders because I am helpless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 19:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15274953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestbluetoeverblue/pseuds/bluestbluetoeverblue
Summary: Andromeda finds a way out.





	Moments

The first time Ted saw Andromeda, she was standing on the platform, waiting for the Hogwarts Express, surrounded by tall, pale figures, all wearing black. He took in the group for only a moment. It was just another image in this strange world he had so much to learn about.

The first time Andromeda saw Ted, he was sitting beneath the Sorting Hat, face full of unsure excitement. She caught only a glimpse of black hair and glasses before the hat shouted. The older students surrounding her rolled their eyes, and Bellatrix let out a laugh. Their table only needed purebloods. The first time Andromeda remembers seeing Ted, he was lounging on the shore of the lake in the spring of that first year. There was still a hint of cool winter breeze, and the stripes of his hand-knit sweater caught her eye. The friends she was walking with narrowed their eyes at the group of Hufflepuffs laughing on the shore. One of them spit on the ground, and they kept walking.

War loomed over the heads of each student, whether they intended to be a part of it or not, and the professors became more intent on preparing their students for a grim world. Andromeda watched students as young as eleven concentrate on Defense Against the Dark Arts as more than a class, and she listened to the other purebloods in her house complain about how futile it was, how much they would rather be learning forbidden magic. By her fifth year, Andromeda knew that she would begin studying the Dark Arts after graduating, just as Bellatrix had.

The DADA professor decided that a long-term project was in order, something to impress the seriousness of the subject on the fifth years who were just reaching the age where adulthood loomed. She assigned partners randomly in the double class, much to Andromeda’s chagrin.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Andromeda watched Ted drop a bag overflowing with books on the table as he hurried to take a seat across from her, glasses a bit askew. She had been waiting fifteen minutes. It was bad enough to have to spend time with a mudblood, but now she was expected to wait for him. She scowled. If Ted noticed, he did not show it. Instead, he extracted a book from the mess of his bag and began flipping through it.

“So I thought we could start with—”

“I don’t care what you do,” she cut him off. “This class is pointless. Do whatever you want; just leave me out of it.”

She grabbed her things off of the floor and stalked out of the library, leaving Ted blinking after her.

 

***

 

The first thing Andromeda became aware of when she woke up was how cold she was. It was November, and the drafts of the castle halls cut through her pajamas. She looked down at where her bare feet stood on stone, then up to the shadowy boy standing in front of her. 

“Are you okay?” Ted asked.

She ran her hands over her face and took in a sharp breath.

“Was I sleepwalking?”

“I guess so,” Ted answered. It took her a moment to place him. There was mild concern on his face. “I found you standing here, doing nothing. Must have been hungry.” He offered a small smile, gesturing to the sweets he held in his hands. She became aware of a familiar scent wafting through the hall.

“Is that the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” Ted nodded, “best part of the dorms.”

A shudder went through her as the Fat Friar floated through a wall to her left.

“You two best be getting to bed, now.” Ted nodded at the ruddy faced-ghost as he floated down the hallway. He looked back at Andromeda and, noticing her shivering, offered the jacket he had pulled on before his kitchen run. She stared at it for a moment.

“It’s just a jacket.” She looked at his eyes, which were only slightly less dark than his rumpled hair. He tilted his head down at her, and she wasn’t sure if he expected her to take it or not. She reached out and slipped the jacket on over her pajamas before turning back towards the dungeons.

She noticed Ted while searching for a book the next morning. Slipping the flannel jacket out of her bag, she went to the desk where he looked to be editing a scroll and held it out to him. He looked up curiously before accepting the jacket without a word. The discomfort settled in on Andromeda’s shoulders.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about last night.”

“Do you sleepwalk a lot?” he asked, expression even.

She watched him wait for an answer, turned her eyes towards a bookshelf instead.

“I used to.”

She turned to leave, but was only a few steps away when his voice called her back.

“You really don’t care about Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re kidding right? It’s the only thing the professors talk about. How we need to be ready for the future because the wizarding world is getting darker.”

She rolled her eyes and turned again.

“Our world has always been dark.”

 

***

 

Andromeda’s eyes flashed open in the darkness of her curtained bed. Her heart thudded in her ears, and her black hair was tangled in sweat. She breathed, open-mouthed, and spread her hand flat over the comforter, brushing her skin against the velvety finish. A dream or a memory? She stared up into the dark and grew cold. It didn’t matter.

 

***

 

The term was coming to an end, so Professor Hopps had begun giving them class periods to finish their projects. Andromeda sat in a small alcove trying to study for her potions exam that was that afternoon, but she was distracted by her own curiosity. From what she could see, Ted’s research was good, and he had taken the rather ambiguous assignment in an interesting direction. He was practicing wand movements, silently, eyes closed. She continued scanning his work. What caught her eye the most were the drawings. Every margin was full of them. Mostly plants, but also some owls and silver-green mokes. He also seemed to enjoy sketching food, and she liked his cylindrical jars with syrupy honey hanging over the edges the best. Ted had stopped his spell movements and was watching her. She averted her eyes quickly, focusing back on her potions notes.

“There’s still time if you want me to fill you in. I don’t mind.”

Andromeda gave him a bored look. He nodded and scooted his chair back in before picking up a quill. She watched him create new dots and lines in the corner of the page, a constellation taking shape.

“We don’t hate you, you know.” 

He looked up, glasses slipping down his freckled nose, and quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

“I don’t hate you. You’re no different from us, really. It’s not your fault you weren’t raised here.”

Ted set down his quill and straightened his back.

“I know,” he said. “And they do hate me, and I can’t control that.” He offered a small smile. “You can’t be friends with me, you know. I’m a Hufflepuff.”

“That’s a dumb tradition.” She shook her head. “We only dislike Hufflepuff because they take mu…”

“Mudbloods?”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, felt the back of her neck grown warm as he watched her flounder, and her eyes shifted to the stone table they sat at. She ran her hands along the mottled gray edge and felt every ridge on her palms. When he spoke again, she looked up.

“You can’t help where you come from any more than I can. But I _can_ help the fact that I’m starving because I happen to know that there are hundreds of cinnamon rolls being baked in the kitchen at this very minute.” He swept everything in front of him into his tattered canvas bag and stood. “You coming?”

 

***

 

It happened slowly after that. He would see her sitting alone on the grounds or standing idly in the hall between classes. If no one was with her, he would sit or stand beside her. She was surprised at first but became accustomed to his presence. He would do most of the talking: about his classes, his roommates, what he’d eaten for breakfast (he liked to talk about food, she discovered quickly), his questions about the wizarding world, his disbelief that after five years there were still things he had to ask questions about. The questions were few for him, but more often than not he would mention his parents offhand in a story, and she would be left thinking only about what a microwave was.

She was sitting on a piece of wood by the lake one Sunday morning wearing two sweaters, a dark green hat, and a scarf wrapped around her neck. She watched him trace pictures in the sand with the toe of his shoe.

“What’s it like to be pureblood?”

She balked at the question for a moment. He looked at her, brown eyes serious and nothing but benevolent. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s cold. Or at least my family is. Everything is perfect and clean. It’s about money and what people think when they see you, whether they respect you. Or fear you. It’s all the same to them.”

“Your parents?” he asked.

“If my parents knew I was even talking to you, they would kill me. If that hat had said anything but Slytherin…” A small wave rushed over the shoreline. Sometimes, the lake seemed more alive than a raging sea. She felt the depths of it while sitting in the common room. She turned to Ted. “After I graduate, my father will spend a year teaching me the Dark Arts.”

His eyes widened, but only for a moment. She was sure what families like hers taught were rumored in all the houses, especially when some of the students from her own dormitory were happy to brag about their bright futures.

“Do you want to learn them?” His voice was neither critical nor wary.

“The Dark Arts are cruel,” she replied easily. “I don’t want to be cruel like my parents.”

 

***

 

It had already been snowing for a week when the first Hogsmeade trip in February rolled around. Ted and Andromeda walked through the village, trailing footprints behind them everywhere they went. The shops were all crammed with students, so they walked along the treeline, talking about classes. Ted stopped suddenly.

“We should make snow angels.” His voice was tinged with excitement, his rosy cheeks filled with a childlike sense of fun.

“What?

“You don’t know snow angels? Come on, I’ll show you.”

He flopped down backwards into the snow and gestured for her to follow. She laid down beside him, copying his movements to create her own pair of pure white wings. They sat in the snow, enjoying their work and brushing the medium off of each other’s coats. It began to fall yet again, and Andromeda watched snowflakes drift onto Ted’s warm face, where they melted. They were laughing.

Neither could ever remember for sure, but Andromeda was sure that Ted started the kiss. He must have been the one to lean in. Either way, she pressed her gloved hand to his cheek and kissed him back.

 

***

 

_Dear Ted,_   _2 July 1970_

_Since I have my own owl, any letters that come for me go straight to my bedroom. My parents never see them. If you aren’t too busy to write, you can send anything here._

_Summer is the longest season. I would rather be with you than locked in this dark house. Everything is old here. Not old and whimsical like the castle. Old like cursed objects and lost artifacts._

_The worst part is that Narcissa is different. We used to be a team. She would come into my room in the middle of the night when she was scared. Now, she worships every word my parents say. I can’t trust her anymore. I’m worried about what she might tell them._

_Do you still want to meet on the train in September? It’s alright if you’ve changed your mind._

_Andromeda_

 

~

 

_Dromeda,_ _6 July 1970_

_Of course I want to meet on the train. My parents always get there early, so I’ll watch for you. I hope it’s okay that I told them about you (not everything). They think you sound nice (I tried to tell them that you make every effort to avoid niceness). Maybe next summer you could stay here for a few weeks, tell your parents you’re visiting someone else?_

_I’m sorry about Narcissa. Maybe she’s just trying to figure things out. If you’re worried about her saying something, we’ll just have to be careful at school. (No making out in the Great Hall, I guess!) I wish I could burst through the front doors and open every window of that house for you. The sun is my favorite thing about summer. But I’d speed up time if I could. I can’t wait for September either._

_Always,_

_Ted_

 

***

 

Even after leaving her parents on the platform, Andromeda’s hands shook as she walked impatiently through the train. Narcissa was going on about how excited she was for her fifth year. As they stepped through the crowded aisle, Andromeda caught sight of him. Ted stood in the open doorway of a compartment, peering out into the excited hall and searching the sea of faced. She watched as his eyes finally landed on her and he broke out into a stupid grin. She bit her own lip to keep from smiling and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Narcissa was going on about some boy or something, Andromeda wasn’t really listening. She broke off when she saw some other Slytherin fifth years pooling near the end of the section and turned to her sister.

“See you at dinner?”

Andromeda nodded and watched her sister slip past everyone towards her friends. She took a breath and pushed her way through the crowd. She was nearing the doorway when Ted caught her arm and pulled her into the compartment, wrapping her in a hug. She smiled against his sweater. It smelled like honey, peppermint, and woodsmoke. Had he gotten taller in just a few months? She looked up, and he grinned down at her, scrunching his nose the way he always did. She smiled and kissed him. 

They spent the ride listening to Ted’s roommates bicker about whether one had agreed to switch beds at the end of last year or not. They didn’t seem to mind her presence in their space, though Smith had raised his eyebrows when he entered the compartment. Ted had only smiled and asked how his summer was. Andromeda knew she should be more careful, but she was sure Ted’s friends weren’t talking to any of her old ones.

She figured that it couldn’t be too difficult to keep their relationship quiet considering that they were from different houses and had different friend groups. Not that Andromeda had many friends at school anymore. Her roommates were nice enough to her, but as they had grown closer over the years, she had become more aware of their differences. And Ted’s roommates were fine, so she couldn’t imagine it being too difficult.

And it wasn’t, really. When he caught her eye in the hall, she might smile, but she never stopped. They only had one double class together, and he always sat with the other Hufflepuffs. As the weather grew colder, fewer students spent afternoons on the grounds, and they were able to find nooks where they could meet. They were sitting in the grass near a grove of trees, bundled in sweaters, eating jam sandwiches, when Ted noticed that she was not present.

“Are you okay?”

Andromeda opened her heavy eyes, which she knew had deep purple circles beneath them. She stretched her back and set down her sandwich.

“Is it the sleepwalking again?”

“No,” she replied. “I haven’t done that in ages. It’s just...I get nightmares sometimes. And when they last, it makes it difficult to fall asleep at all.”

“How long are they lasting right now?”

“A few weeks.”

“About your father?"

She nodded, as if this was normal picnic conversation, and laid down on the grass. She rested her head on Ted’s legs, and he peered down at her, worry dotting his face.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” she assured him. “I know that they’re not real. I don’t have anything to worry about right now.”

“Close your eyes.” He ran a hand through her hair, and she couldn’t help but begin to drift. “If you have a nightmare, at least I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The next time she woke in the middle of the night with her throat tight, she slipped out of bed, through the hall and common room, into the coolness of the dungeon. She found her way to the Hufflepuff dormitory, knowing that she had no way of getting inside. But when she arrived in the hall, Ted was just there, making his way from the kitchen, chewing the last bite of what looked like a pastry of some sort. Andromeda felt the right corner of her mouth tease up as the last of the tension dissipated from her shoulders. He turned in fright, face scrunching up in apology to whatever professor was patrolling the halls. She knew he had a tendency to get caught on midnight snack trips. This time, he saw that it was only her, and his shock was replaced with confusion, then understanding.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” her voice croaked into the darkness.

He tapped on a group of barrels and held open the door to a passageway until she had climbed through. The common room it led to was the opposite from her own in every way she could think of: it was cluttered with furniture, all old and worn, with plenty of side tables and bookshelves; there were blankets and pillows and rugs, more than she had ever seen in one space; green plants grew everywhere in pots and hanging from the ceiling; and the ceiling was almost entirely glass, a giant window that must have shown the sky as well as the Great Hall did, probably flooding the room with sunlight during the day. At that moment, all she could see when she looked up was thousands of stars, endlessly punctuating the night sky.

She followed him towards a small couch in the corner of the room. It was made of a light blue fabric, soft but nearly ragged from years of use. The furniture she was used to was polished, new, and clean. This couch, she sank into. Ted reached an arm around her as she leaned into him. He grabbed a knit blanket off the arm of the couch and draped it over them. Andromeda curled her feet up off of the wooden floor, set her head on Ted’s steadily rising and falling chest, and looked up at the sky.

 

***

 

Andromeda wrote her parents to tell them that she would stay at school over the winter holiday, like every other year. She mentioned papers and assignments. They didn’t protest, like usual. The only difference this year was that Narcissa wrote her own letter, telling her parents that she wanted to spend the break at a friend’s house. She dropped a pureblood name and got approval. Andromeda wanted to laugh when she heard about it. Narcissa could have just lied like her. It wasn’t difficult to tell her parents she was staying at school and her head of house that she was going home. No one missed her while she was with gone.

Meeting Ted’s parents was overwhelmingly strange to her. They were sweet, giving her hugs when she stepped onto the platform and asking if they were hungry. Ted said that they had eaten on the train, but Mrs.Tonks insisted on making a dish Andromeda had never heard of anyways. Their home was different than any Andromeda had ever been in. It was the first time she had ever been in the Muggle world, for one thing. Ted explained everything to her when she asked, and his parents seemed nothing but excited to be meeting a young witch. She wondered how they could accept their son being so different from them, even if it had been six years. She thought about the cousin she had only met once, who had showed no signs of magical abilities, who received no letter. The cousin they didn’t talk about.

Ted stayed up with her all night, sitting on the living room floor talking about everything they could think of. She remembered chocolates from the bowl on his mother’s table or maybe a hint of sunrise before she would wake up in the spare bedroom, wrapped in warm cotton sheets.

It is this spell that made her bold when they returned to Hogwarts. She wore the thick green sweater the Tonks gave her for Christmas—“They asked if you would want a yellow one too, and when I said you were a Slytherin my mum demanded to know your house colors.”—over most of her outfits that winter. And when she entered the Great Hall one morning for breakfast, awake before the food arrived and when most of the other students were still asleep in their dorms, she sat calmly at the Hufflepuff table, trying to act as if she belonged there. A few students eyed her, but no one said much. When Ted came in with his roommates, they sat around her as if she had always eaten with them. Ted squeezed her leg as Smith and Neil told jokes and ate their porridge. By the end of the year, she sat with them at every meal and even joined in on their conversations.

She had grown to trust them, these boys whose names she hadn’t bothered learning until five years after they had all crossed the lake together. They teased that she was too good for Ted, and she laughed every time. They didn’t know that she didn’t deserve him. But they let her have the last pumpkin pastie and pretended not to hear her come into the dorm at night as she slipped into Ted’s fourposter and curled up beside him, only able to sleep to the sound of his breathing.

 

***

 

“I can’t do it.”

“You can,” Ted insisted. He sat in a fraying, olive-colored shirt with black hair loose and in need of a cut. The others had gone to find the trolley witch, and they were alone in the compartment. The summer had loomed over Andromeda for weeks, but it never felt more real than when she was on the train.

“You only have to make it until August,” Ted said as she leaned her head against the window, watching green hills rolled by. She had grown to like that earthy green. It was nothing like the viridescent jades and emeralds of her pedigree. “Then you’ll be seventeen, and you’ll be free.”

“And you’ll meet me in London?”

“I’ll meet you in London. And my parents said you can stay with us until school starts.” They had been over this a thousand times, but he kept reassuring her anyways. He reached out, and she took his hand in hers. Still, she was sure the last two months in that house would be the longest of her life.

 

***

 

The next time they were on the Hogwarts Express, they stepped onto the train together. Only a few people had arrived, so they choose a compartment towards the middle, where they waited for their last year of school to begin. Andromeda sat with her back up against the window, legs spread over Ted’s lap. She watched his dark hands trace over them, covering her calves with flowers drawn in pen. By the time the train was full, he had planted an inky garden on her pale skin. She recognized most of the flowers from his parents’ garden that she had spent the last month tending after leaving a note the night of her seventeenth birthday and never looking back.

They could still hear the bustle of students in the hall as the train slowly began to pull away from the station. A few minutes later, the compartment door slid open, and Andromeda’s attention was drawn away from the rose spouting beside her knee.

Narcissa stood in the middle of the entrance, hands on either side of the doorway, blonde hair as perfect as ever. Her mouth opened slightly when they met each other. Then Narcissa’s eyes landed on Ted, who was looking up at her as well. Her eyes were wide, and when she turned back to Andromeda, her face seemed to demand something.

After a heavy moment during which no one spoke, she turned from where she stood and left, the door sliding closed behind her.

After the feast that night, as hundreds of students flooded through the Entrance Hall in all directions, they kissed. With her hands on his shoulders and his on the small of her back, she savored the moment. It wasn’t being apart from him for the first time in a month so much as having to spend the night in the dungeons that she was dreading.

They stepped away from each other after being given a look from a professor and headed in their opposite directions. It seemed like everyone she met in the common room was shooting her icy glares that night. When she walked into the dormitory, her roommates quickly stopped speaking and wouldn’t meet her eyes as they all got into bed. She sighed and dug through her trunk for a pair of pajamas.

She was scouring the library a few days into the term, trying to get ahead and avoid spending any more time in the dormitory than she had to, when she heard a ruckus coming from a secluded section of tables. She peeked around the shelves and caught sight of her cousin in a group of boys who were clearly doing anything but working. She could hear their laughter from where she spied. She recognized James Potter but not the other two who were with them. She watched a brown-haired boy in a shabby coat rest his hand on Sirius’ shoulder for a moment. Her cousin’s face grew pink for a second when he looked at the boy, but he quickly rejoined the others in their scheming. Andromeda smiled.

 

***

 

They hadn’t been there a week when the letter arrived. It dropped in front of her at breakfast, one of dozens of early year messages and care packages that were launched at the Hufflepuff table. Andromeda ran her fingers over the dark seal on the back on the envelope and knew immediately. She opened it carefully as the morning conversations continued around her.

“‘Dromeda?” Ted asked, swallowing a bite and watching as she folded the letter back into the envelope without a word. She set it down beside her plate and picked up her fork, trying to look content as she turned to answer him.

“My parents have disowned me.”

 

***

 

She found her in the hallway on the third floor as the classes switched that morning. Narcissa was standing with a tall blond seventh year, flashing a smile as she hugged her books to her chest. Andromeda walked through the streams of students until she was standing right in front of them.

“I’d like a minute with my sister,” Andromeda growled when the boy didn’t leave. He gave her disinterested look before walking away. She turned to Narcissa.

“Lucius? That’s who you’ve decided to spend your time with?” she asked.

Narcissa’s face grew hard.

“I had to tell them. You knew I would have to.”

“I don’t care about them,” Andromeda said. “Why do you?”

The hallway had begun to clear as students filed into their classrooms. Narcissa shook her head angrily, blonde hair coming back to rest flat against her shoulders.

“ _Toujours pur_ ,” she said callously, “Lucius understands what that means.” She pushed past Andromeda and into the nearest classroom without giving her another glance.

“I’m sorry,” Ted whispered that night as she ran her finger over the sheet in a circle. She shrugged because she knew it would happen this way. He turned in the single bed to make more space, and she rested her head on the pillow beside his. He reached forward to kiss her cheek before settling back into his spot.

“You’re allowed to care about them,” he whispered.

She smiled and replied, “You’re the only one I care about. You and graduating and finding a cottage in a village where no one is pureblood.”

Despite everything, for the first time in a while she felt like everything was going to work out.

  
***

_Twenty-Seven Years Later_

 

The stone room is cold and empty, save a sterile-looking bench big enough for a body to lay on. In the aftermath of it all, Andromeda can’t remember how she was told about the proceedings, but she found out nonetheless. She stared at the jar for a long time. It seems odd to her that after everything that has happened, they felt the need to take care of a matter like this. Then again, something has to be done with so many bodies.

“If no family comes forward to claim the ashes, they are discarded,” the witch at the front desk had explained hurriedly. Like everyone else in the Ministry building, she seemed to be doing a thousand things at once and ran off to her next obligation. Aftermath.

Let them discard them, she decides. The anger burns inside her at the sight of the jar, and she is afraid that any other choice will let it eat her alive. Bellatrix was the worst of them all. Let them throw her away with all of the others whose families won’t claim them or who are too afraid to. She leaves the stone room without a second thought or even a fleeting sense of guilt. This part of the building is isolated, for reasons she can understand, and at first the hallway appears empty when she returns to it. After a second, though, she notices the figure waiting by the desk.

Narcissa turns when she enters the hall and takes a step towards her. She is wearing a long black jacket and high heels, but her face is pallid, her hair dull as it hangs around her face. The sisters make eye contact, and Andromeda cannot remember the last time they saw each other.

She steps out of the way of the door and says, “She deserved worse than she got.”

“I know.” Narcissa looks at her with tired eyes. She starts to walk away, but Narcissa’s voice stops her. “I did the best with what I had.”

Andromeda turns and steps back towards the younger woman before speaking in a low voice: “We grew up in the same house.”

“And you left,” Narcissa bites, her voice sharp. “You knew what it was like there, and you left with that boy. And no one came to sweep me away. But I saw my opportunity to get out of that damn house, so I took it. And yes, Lucius was the same as them. I knew that. But I got out, just like you, and I never looked back. And in our house, I opened the draperies and painted every room white. I finally had power. So I negotiated, took the bad with the good. And I never let him touch Draco. For all my faults, I never let him lay a hand on my son.”

“Cissy—” Andromeda whispers, but Narcissa cuts her off. There are tears in her eyes.

“I don’t need your pity. We’re the same.” Her voice is harsh. She wipes her face violently.

Andromeda is unsure how long they stand there, but she cannot move. They stand, the three of them in the same place for the first time since they were kids. The anger that has been blooming in her chest for weeks drains away, and she is left only able to remember the small blonde girl who used to climb into bed with her after the bad days.

“Your daughter…” Narcissa says. She is only a few feet away.

“Nymphadora.” Andromeda’s voice is thick and the name catches in her throat. That beautiful name she had always hated. “She left a son. Edward. Teddy, she wanted to call him.”

The silence is heavy.

“I’m sorry.”

“Is Draco alright?” She looks up to watch Narcissa nod and notices that her eyes are wet again. “I’m glad.”

They stand there for a minute, sharing the same air like they used to share so many things. Then Andromeda reaches out her hand.


End file.
